


all for freedom and for pleasure

by ThunderstormsandMemories



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, F/F, First Kiss, Space Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 08:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11204037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThunderstormsandMemories/pseuds/ThunderstormsandMemories
Summary: in which Nassau is the most infamous space station in this part of the galaxy, Eleanor has a dream, Max has a plan, Idelle worries, and everything works out in the end





	all for freedom and for pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> starts at some point vaguely pre-canon except. you know. in space

Max didn’t necessarily believe in love at first sight, but from the first time she had seen Eleanor there had been _something_. Not love, exactly, that would come later, but admiration and attraction often felt like the same thing. Besides, it couldn’t be love at first sight yet, because Eleanor hadn’t seen her. That would come later too.

Everyone who had been on Nassau for more than a day had heard of Eleanor Guthrie, and had probably heard her life story too, or at least the version of it that was passed around the station, in Nassau’s innumerable clubs and warehouses and docking bays, rumors from the shopkeepers and bartenders who had been there since before she had mixed with stories brought in from smugglers and raiders about what was said about her on other stations, other worlds. The story went like this: years ago, a man name Richard Guthrie, least favorite son of a family who’d made their credits in a mostly legal intergalactic shipping conglomeration, showed up on Nassau with his wife and young daughter, claiming that he owned Nassau, had used up what was left of his part of the family fortune and borrowed extensively from his richer relatives in order to buy the entire station away from the collection of stockholders and business owners who had been nominally in charge before. Somewhere along the line, no one agreed on how or why, only that it had happened, his wife was killed and he fucked off to his private spaceship that he kept in orbit around Nassau, never again deigning to step foot on the station himself again. And, more importantly, he had left his young daughter behind. His young daughter who grew up among the petty thieves and con artists and raiders who called Nassau home, who somehow managed to make herself the one person they needed and feared and respected in equal measure. His daughter Eleanor Guthrie, Queen of Thieves. Queen of Nassau.

That much was, as far as Max could make out, basically true. The rest of it, the stories about her being able to bend men’s minds to her will or stealing all of their money to fund unsavory experiments that would keep her young and beautiful forever, sounded like the kind of bullshit men made up when a women had power over them and there was nothing they could do about it. At any rate, there was certainly nothing sinister about a rich twenty year old looking young and beautiful.

She was, Max thought, very beautiful. She herself had been on Nassau for a few months before she saw Eleanor for the first time. She knew who she was from the whispers that followed her, and Max watched from the stairs as she made her way to the bar, downed two shots of something clear and strong-looking in quick succession, stood still for a moment, bracing herself again the bar, and then left again, as quickly as she had come.

She looked beautiful and commanding, as the stories said, but also rather lonely. She looked like someone who could use a friend. Or a business partner.

The first time she and Eleanor Guthrie met officially started much the same, except that Max was near enough to approach her before she left the bar. As she set down the second shot glass, Max sidled up to her and said, “I have a proposition for you.” Eleanor looked at her, at what she was wearing or more likely how much she wasn’t wearing, and started to turn away. Max grabbed her arm. “Not that kind of proposition.”

“Then what is it that you want?”

“Not here,” Max said. “I don’t want to be overheard.”

Her proposition, as she called it, was simple enough, though explaining it to Eleanor, who stood by the door, arms crossed, who’d invited her to start talking with a brisk, “I’m listening,” was a daunting prospect.

“I know you’ve done an impressive thing, running Nassau the way you do, but I think there is a way that it could be better, that you could stabilize your position and make even more of a profit.”

“How is that possible?” said Eleanor, and Max wasn’t sure if she was more upset at the thought that there was something she could be doing but wasn’t, or that Max had noticed.

“I hear things,” said Max. “People come in here, from their ships, from their dealings with you, and they talk, because they don’t think anyone important is listening. They talk, and I listen, and I learn of things that even you don’t know about.”

“And you’ll share this information with me?” Eleanor said. “You must want something in return.”

Max shrugged, pursing her lips, as if this was all hypothetical and trivial. “Just a small share in the profits,” she said. “I think that would only be fair.”

“How big a share?” Eleanor was still skeptical, she could tell, but she was interested, or else she wouldn’t bother asking so many questions.

“Ten percent,” Max said, and then held a hand up to forestall the argument that was surely coming. “But I believe that the information I can bring you will increase profits by at least twenty percent.”

“Can you prove that?” Eleanor said. “You’ve made a convincing argument, and I want to believe, but I can’t commit to an investment like this without some sort of guarantee. What is it that you know?”

“I know that Captain Frasier has been hiding profits from you for months, hoarding away luxury items that he hopes to sell to someone else to avoid your handling fee, because he’s looking to retire soon. I know that Captain Vane’s quartermaster wants to start his own crew, and that there are a few good fighters who would be willing to follow him, that all he needs to make that a reality is one big prize, and that from then on there would be another crew at the station who can take a prize without damaging it so much that the value is reduced. I know that Captain Flint thinks that a war is coming, that soon the Alliance, encouraged by the Intergalactic Trade Federation, will send battleships to take back Nassau and put an end to everything you have built here. I know that he isn’t the only one who thinks this, and I know that he is right. I have heard whispers, just whispers so far, but enough of them to mean something, that point to an increased Alliance presence in nearby systems. An extra patrol cruiser where there shouldn’t have been one here, escort ships with more and better guns than they’ve ever had there. Just isolated incidents so far, but enough of them that a pattern is beginning to form. The Alliance is coming for Nassau, and we must be prepared.”

“I see,” said Eleanor unsteadily. “Supposing I believe you, what would you have me do?”

Max suppressed a smile. She was convinced now, even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself. “From my perspective, it looks like you have three options. You could save as many credits as possible and then, when the moment arrives, you cut your losses and run, with enough capital to start over somewhere else. You could stay and fight and likely finance the expensive and bloody war for the future of this place, as Captain Flint would have you do.” She paused, partially for effect and partially to gauge Eleanor’s expression.

“And?” Eleanor said impatiently. “You said there were three options; what’s the third?”

“You stay,” Max said, “but not to fight. You stay and you keep building and you make Nassau so stable, so secure, so profitable, that you can show the Alliance and the ITF and anyone else who comes along that Nassau is worth more to the intergalactic market as it is now, strong, thriving, independent, than it would be under their control.”

“You think I can make Nassau legitimate?” Eleanor said. “A station populated by smugglers and raiders and wanted fugitives, stable and legitimate in the eyes of the Alliance?”

Max shrugged again. “Legitimate enough. All that we have to do is to remind them that they benefit from our continued stability and prosperity as well. Most shipping corporations make more from the insurance on an intercepted shipment than from a properly delivered one, and the need for escort ships with advanced weaponry keeps several industries running and most governments out of bankruptcy. And besides, without Nassau, without a place where lawlessness is the law and the outcasts and criminals of more restrictive places can go, the type of people who come to Nassau wouldn’t stop existing, there would just be nowhere for them to go, and that is something that most governments do not want to deal with.”

Eleanor stared at her for a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration, and then she held out her hand. Max took it. “Fine,” she said. “We have a deal.”

“We have a deal,” echoed Max.

“If the information you gave me doesn’t work out,” Eleanor said, “the deal is off, and I _will_ want to know why you’ve tricked me.”

“Of course,” Max said, releasing Eleanor’s hand and smiling brightly. “But that won’t be necessary.”

\---

Eleanor was back within a week, except this time she bought Max a drink and gave her a small, approving nod. And so it went. Every week or so, Eleanor would stop by the club, have her drink at the bar, and Max would find her and lead her somewhere private. She knew what people would assume, what the rumors were starting to say, but that was only to be expected, with the kind of place this was, and anyway, it was a useful way of disguising their true intentions.

And then their conversation started growing longer and longer, and Eleanor no longer left as soon as Max had told her all of that week’s useful information, and Max realized that she had been right the first time. Eleanor needed a friend, more than she had needed a business partner, though being the latter gave her a much better shot at becoming the former.

They would still always start by discussing information and credits, but now before long the conversation would shift, and Eleanor would start telling her stories about the look on Captain Low’s quartermaster’s face when he realized he’d been outsmarted by a woman half his age, or how smug and arrogant and frustrating Captain Vane had been, and she was looking for emotional support instead of business advice. This, too, was something Max knew how to do, so she could handle this kind of shift in their partnership. But then Eleanor started trying to involve her in the conversation, to ask about how her week had been and what she wanted from life, with what seemed to be genuine interest.

“You’re into her,” Idelle said, impatiently, like it was obvious, when Max tried to complain to her about how nice Eleanor was being.

“We are business partners,” Max said, “and maybe friends. That is all.”

“Sure,” Idelle said, not convinced, and Max was sure that Idelle was wrong all the way up until she heard Eleanor laugh for the first time, laugh for real, happy and uncomplicated, not the sharp bitter laughter she used when she was angry, and she fell in love. Or maybe that had already happened, had been happening ever since they met, and it had taken her this long to realize.

“I think I have feelings for Eleanor,” she said to Idelle, and Idelle rolled her eyes.

“No shit.”

And once she’d noticed that, she started noticing other things, like how good Eleanor looked when she took her hair down, how soft her hands were, the way she smelled, like rocket fuel and some kind of flowery perfume, the way her body curved toward Max’s when they sat side by side, how she had this private little smile that Max had never seen her direct towards anyone else that made Max’s heart light up.

“Do you think she likes me?” she asked Idelle, and Idelle laughed.

“You really don’t know?” Idelle said. “You? You’re the one who taught me how to make someone fall in love with me, and you can’t even tell that this girl thinks you’re the hottest person on the entire fucking station? Are you kidding me?”

“I take it that’s a yes, then.”

“Yes, it’s a fucking yes,” Idelle said. “I can't believe you didn't notice.”

“You think that I should sleep with her?”

“I think that it’s what you both want.” And then, softer, “I also think that you should be careful with her.”

“You don’t trust her?” Max said. It wasn’t that she didn’t know what kind of person Eleanor was, that she hadn’t gotten to where she was without doing whatever it took, even if it meant hurting people who were close to her. But Max understood her, and that might make all the difference.

“She’s ambitious and rich,” said Idelle. “Course I don’t trust her. I think she’s into you, for now, until she thinks that you’ve become an obstacle to her. I think you should fuck her, because you both want to, but whatever you do don’t get attached. Don’t let her hurt you.”

Max considered what Idelle said and did nothing about any of it. She still had feelings for Eleanor, and she still did nothing to act on them. Idelle had been right about one thing, at least. Eleanor was powerful, and it would be a good idea to wait to start a relationship with feelings involved until they were on somewhat equal footing.

The opportunity for that kind of equal footing came to Max, as most opportunities did, in the form of a man who failed to keep a secret. John Silver was the new man on Captain Flint’s crew, and he had stolen something from the most recent prize that Captain Flint had taken: a data chip with information about the itinerary and schematics of a ship carrying so many credits worth of precious metal that it could make Nassau fully sustainable even in the face of an Alliance invasion. And Silver, with all his opportunism and greed, wanted Max’s help in selling it to another crew, which meant crossing Captain Flint, which meant it was a bad and highly dangerous idea. Also, those credits could make the difference in her and Eleanor’s vision of the future.

As soon as Silver left, Max sent Eleanor a coded message saying only that she needed to see her as soon as possible. Eleanor was cross when she arrived, but as she listened to Max’s proposal, Max could see the irritation leaving her face, replacing by hunger and rapid calculation. She wanted this too, just as much as Max did, and together they were going to do anything to make it happen. Well, not quite anything. Max drew the line at having Silver killed, even though Eleanor thought it solve several problems at once and make the whole enterprise significantly easier. But that was one step Max wasn’t prepared to take, so Eleanor sighed and poured herself another drink and they set about finding a different way to keep him from causing too much more trouble.

In the end, the plan was simple. The buyer that Max found for Silver was someone reasonably trustworthy who worked for Eleanor, a woman named Eme. She was probably going to make a copy of the data for her own reasons, but that was fine, as long as she passed the original along to Eleanor, which she could give to Captain Flint, who looked like their best chance at securing the prize at the moment. Also, Eleanor, for whatever reason, seemed to like him, and the only other likely choice would have been Captain Vane, who was entirely out of the question. Silver had probably made a copy of his own, for insurance, but that wouldn’t matter if everything else went according to plan. Nothing ever, as a rule, went according to plan.

Silver must’ve figured out that Max was double-crossing him, because he did make another copy of the data, and he also sold it to someone else, to Jack Rackham of all people, which was exactly the outcome that Max and Eleanor had been hoping to avoid.

On the day that either Flint’s ship or Rackham’s was due to return with the shipment, Max made her way to Eleanor’s office early in the day, and together they paced and worried and talked about all of the ways it could have gone wrong: Rackham got there first and wouldn’t work with them, Flint got there first but Rackham fought him for it and won, they’d both been lost somehow, because this was space and accidents happened.

And then the door to Eleanor’s office slid open, and Eleanor held her breath and clutched Max’s hand even more tightly. (The fact that they had been holding hands for the past half hour, Max told herself, might not mean anything. They were friends, and they needed to comfort each other. It might not mean anything.)

“The Urca was where you said it would be,” said Flint. “But some of the information was less than accurate.” Eleanor looked personally offended at the idea that any information she’d had a part in passing along had been anything less than perfect, but Max was worried, already trying to think of a way out for them if the situation went bad.

“What he means to say,” said Rackham, “isn’t nearly as ominous as he makes it sounds. Whoever wrote that greatly underestimated how much cargo the Urca would be carrying. It took both of our ships just to bring everything back.” He let the impact of that settle in the room for a moment, as Max and Eleanor looked at each other, first in shock, and then, realization and triumph.

“We did it,” Eleanor said. “We really fucking did it.”

“And we’re not done yet,” said Max, still holding Eleanor’s hand tightly, looking around the room, trying to figure out how the fuck they were going to keep five million credits worth of precious metal hidden on a space station smaller than most planet-side cities.

When she started to speak, when she proposed her plan, they all listened, which pleasantly surprised her, even though she suspected that Rackham at least was just humoring her out of respect for, or fear of, Eleanor. And then, as she explained her idea, Flint and Rackham looked at each other and she could read the surprise on her faces, and the expression on Eleanor’s face that could only be described as pride.

As soon as both Rackham and Flint left to deal with their own ships and crews, Eleanor turn to Max and hugged her tightly, and Max couldn’t tell if she was laughing or crying or both, but she hugged her back, finally allowing herself to smile and breathe. When Eleanor pulled back from the hug, her face was flushed, and there was something that passed between them like a spark as they held each other’s gaze, until Eleanor looked down sheepishly, and Max could swear she saw a blush creeping up Eleanor’s cheeks.

“Yes, well,” Eleanor said, standing awkwardly.

“I’ll keep you updated,” Max said, and all but turned and ran. Idelle gave her a knowing look the next time she saw her, which must’ve meant she was still grinning from ear to ear like a lovestruck girl.

“What’s all this about, then?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Max innocently, humming to herself as she transferred her share of the credits into her personal account, and then used part of that amount to buy the club, the main weapons depot, and half a dozen other businesses besides. All places that would give her first access to any information that passed through the station.

As soon as the details of the property sales became public, Eleanor came to visit Max, in her new office, and she greeted her with a hug. “Looks like we’re business partners for real now. Equal partners.”

“We are,” Max said. She reached for Eleanor’s hand. “Partners.”

Eleanor stepped forward, close enough that Max was distracted by her slightly parted lips, the brightness in her eyes, and Max rested her other hand on Eleanor’s lower back, drawing her in closer. “Are you sure about this?” Eleanor said.

“Yes,” Max said. “More sure than I am about anything else on this mess of a station, as long as it is what you want, as well.”

“It is,” said Eleanor, “but I just want us to be careful. I have enemies…”

“We both have enemies,” Max said, letting go of Eleanor’s hand to gently rest her own hand on Eleanor’s cheek. “But when we are together, when we trust each other, they cannot hurt us.”

“I know,” Eleanor said, resting her forehead against Max’s. “I know. There’s just so much that could go wrong.”

“And we will deal with it when that happens,” Max said, running her thumb across Eleanor’s lips, and Eleanor’s breathing shuddered, “instead of worrying about it now.”

“Yeah,” Eleanor said, voice low. “We will. Because we’re the smartest Goddamn people on this fucking station.” And then she kissed her, and Max kissed her back, long and slow and sweet, everything they had both been waiting for for so long.

\---

There was one rule on Nassau, for all that the Alliance and the Intergalactic Trade Federation liked to call it a place completely without law and order. It was a simple rule, one which most people had no trouble following, and those who did break it didn’t generally last long to brag about it. It was, Max thought, a fairly concise statement of Eleanor’s business model: don’t fuck with Eleanor.

If there were a second rule on Nassau, it would have been: and don’t fuck with Max either, because then both Max and Eleanor will destroy you in their own separate ways, and why would you fuck with Max anyway, since she’s the one who ensures that you make money, gives you a place to spend it, and keeps the street reasonably peaceful.

It was funny, the way that newcomers didn’t seem to realize that two powerful women splitting the governance of a space station wasn’t the recipe for disaster they assume it is, that pitting one against the other wasn’t the way to succeed there. But perhaps it was natural. Nassau was a treacherous, uncertain place, despite all of the steps Max and Eleanor had made toward stabilizing it, where even the most trusted of friends or partners might sell you out as soon as there was something in it for them. Newcomers couldn’t be expected to know that as soon as they left from delivering their proposals to give one an advantage over the other, whoever had heard the proposal and nodded politely and ushered the newcomer out of her office would immediately send a message to the other and they’d laugh about it over tea and fancy imported alcohol from the outer reaches of the galaxy.

The rest of the station might be chaotic, and almost everyone they knew had some sort of hidden agenda, but in a room alone together, where they were safe and hidden from the eyes and cameras of the station, none of that seemed to matter. When Eleanor kissed her, she was home and they were invincible. Young, powerful, in love, queens of Nassau.

**Author's Note:**

> title from everybody wants to rule the world  
> anyway I love how all of this is exactly what happened in canon and nothing bad ever happened to either of them ever


End file.
